


Orange Blossoms and Tangerines

by jadedgalaxies (Emeraldxoxo)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Kageyama Tobio, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anyone can get pregnant, Beta Kozume Kenma, Beta/Omega, Biting, Choose your own destiny, Communication, Established Relationship, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Marking, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Hinata Shouyou, Pheromones, Scents & Smells, Soul Bond, cheating... sorta, its sweet i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 21:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldxoxo/pseuds/jadedgalaxies
Summary: Hinata Shouyo has always been able to resist Alpha pheromones - so much so that he was able to fall in love with Kozume Kenma. However, his life is turned upside down when he bumps into his fated soul bond, Kageyama Tobio. Immediately, Shouyostrugglesto resist the soul bond that pulls him closer to Kageyama and further away from Kenma. Shouyo has to choose between the man he has always loved and the man his body craves.Shouyo yanks him forward into a searing, sloppy kiss. It’s Kenma. The familiarity of Kenma’s lips, the familiarity of his scent, everything that used to soothe and ease the desperation of his heats… all of it isgone. It’s not Kenma’s gentle, orange blossom and apple scent that hecraveslike a dehydrated man in the desert but it’s thatstupid stranger’sscent instead.And that desire makes him burst into tears.





	Orange Blossoms and Tangerines

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my first adventure into the A/B/O world where I attempt to challenge the traditional dynamics. I've been slowly working on this fic for a while and when I realized it was KenHina day, I thought, why the heck not and finished it. (It is still technically May 10th right now even though the date for this fic is May 11 lol). So this fic, despite the kagehina tag, is **1000% a KenHina fic**. Anyways, enjoy!

Shouyo’s been told his pheromones smell like tangerines. Kenma often tells him that he also smells like sunflowers. Not that he would know; it’s not like he can smell it himself.

Despite this strange world that they live in, Shouyo has been able to resist the near overwhelming scent of every Alpha he’s met. Which he’s thankful for, since he has Kenma.

Kenma, who is always gentle with him, who placates his borderline agonizing heats with cool hands and loving kisses. Kenma is everything to Shouyo – even if they can never _truly_ mate in the sense that Alphas and Omegas can. But that doesn’t matter to Shouyo.

With the end of his heat cycle, Shouyo can breathe again. He showers fast, rejuvenated, and tugs on one of Kenma’s shirts. He fingers the fading bite marks on his neck, a sign that they will never be as permanent as Shouyo so desperately wishes they would be, and creeps up behind Kenma in the living room.

The game he’s playing requires little effort so Shouyo doesn’t feel a knot of guilt tighten in his gut when he cups his hands over Kenma’s eyes.

“Guess who,” he whispers and kisses the shell of Kenma’s ear. Kenma shivers. A smile pulls at his lips as he sets aside his game so he can slide his hands over Shouyo’s. Their rings clink softly.

“Unless Kuroo finally managed to figure out where we’ve hidden the house key, it has to be Shouyo,” Kenma says, squeezing Shouyo’s fingers.

Laughing, Shouyo makes an incorrect buzzer sound. “Uh-oh, looks like contestant number five is incorrect! The correct answer is… ‘my mate’! Better luck next time.”

Kenma’s laugh is intoxicating. “I still win a prize though, right?”

Shouyo twists his hands and laces his fingers with Kenma’s. “Yup!” Kenma tilts his head back, his lips curling. Shouyo takes the hint and kisses him. “Your prize is: me!”

When Kenma manoeuvres Shouyo onto his lap, his world has never seemed so happy…

Unfortunately, this happiness would only last another few weeks.

He was with Kenma when it happened, _thank god he was_ , and the sensation brought him to his knees in the middle of the busy, mid-day Tokyo sidewalk. He barely hears Kenma repeatedly saying his name.

This scent – so irresistible and potent that Shouyo’s mind goes blank – is driving him insane. Black licorice. It figures Shouyo’s least favourite licorice flavour would be his downfall. The scent is strangling him, infusing every cell in his lungs, filling his nostrils until all he can _think_ of is that scent.

“Shouyo!” Kenma says, jerking Shouyo upright so hard he finally can think a little clearer. His heart thunders in his chest, his legs quiver and his vision is hazy. But the crease between Kenma’s eyebrows pulls him a little more out of his stupor.

“I –” his voice dies in his throat when he sees him. With bright blue eyes, dark hair and an even darker expression marring his handsome face, Shouyo has never felt more suffocated. The man with the black licorice scent approaches like he is on a mission and the crowd parts for him.

Kenma follows his gaze and says nothing. Only the downturn of his lips says everything for him. Shouyo doesn’t get the chance to feel guilty when the stranger is a foot away, staring down at him and the scent, now infinitely more potent, goes straight to his groin.

Shouyo was so sure it was just a legend, that it didn’t exist and he was free to make his own choices. He was so glad he could resist an Alpha’s pheromones without much effort – he was so glad he was able to fall in love with Kenma. But standing just a foot away is his soul bond.

 _No_.

“G—go away!” Shouyo yells, his voice breaking and breathless. He _hates_ these feelings. He would like nothing more than to bottle them up and throw them off the coast of Japan. His fingers shake (and he’s not sure if it’s from the pheromones or the rage building in his chest) and he yells it again.

The stranger steps closer; Shouyo’s head spins. Kenma steps in front of him.

“ _Move_ ,” the stranger growls. Shouyo nearly collapses again. His _voice_ oh his _voice_. It’s doing crazy things to Shouyo. Shouyo grips the back of Kenma’s sweater, presses his face between his shoulder blades, desperate to drown out that stupid Alpha’s pheromones with Kenma’s warm and gentle scent. But it’s not working.

Someone bumps Shouyo from behind as if to remind him they’re standing in the middle of a very crowded sidewalk.

He mumbles incoherently and Kenma twists around, wrapping a familiar arm around his shoulders and leads him from the crowded street.

“Oi!” the stranger shouts but Kenma ignores him.

He corrals Shouyo into a relatively deserted alleyway. Shouyo is on fire.

“Shouyo, c’mon _look_ at me,” Kenma begs, his hands cupping Shouyo’s sweaty face. He pinches his eyes shut, endeavouring to enter into a monk like state and forget about that Alpha’s scent. He chants in his head for these unwanted feelings to go away. “You’re releasing a crazy amount of pheromones,” Kenma says, his voice hoarse. “Do you have any suppressants with you?”

“They won’t work,” the stranger says haggard.

“Would you just go away?!” Shouyo squawks. The longer he’s around, the closer he is to setting off Shouyo’s heat – he still had _time_. _I can’t breathe – I want – I need him_ –

“You think I _asked_ for this?” he demands. “I don’t want _any_ of this! But I can’t…”

Kenma pulls Shouyo into his arms, forcing Shouyo’s nose against his neck. Kenma’s sweet, gentle Beta smell could never drown out the stranger’s downright overpowering scent but it grounds Shouyo. It reminds him of who he is. Who he loves.

He clings to Kenma with all he has because he’s terrified that if he lets go, even for a second, he’ll be on his knees in front of that stranger begging for him to fuck him.

“Take me home, Kenma, please,” Shouyo gasps.

The stranger staggers forward. “Wait–”

“We’re leaving,” Kenma says, tugging Shouyo along in a half-sprint. Neither of them checks to see if the stranger follows.

The further they are from him, the more Shouyo’s head clears enough for him to see the leering look from other Alphas. His heat has been triggered.

His feet drag while he tries to keep up with Kenma. His head and heart are in shambles. It’s _never_ been this bad before; he can’t quite catch his breath. His legs are quivering, he’s practically soaked through his jeans and he feels like he might catch fire.

Stumbling, Shouyo brings them both down outside their apartment.

“Is he okay?” Someone – _anyone_ it doesn’t matter – asks.

“ _He will be_!” Kenma snaps. His long fingers prod Shouyo’s hot cheeks. Shouyo’s vision focuses on the panic forming in Kenma’s wild golden eyes. “Shouyo, hey, are you–”

Shouyo yanks him forward into a searing, sloppy kiss. It’s Kenma. The familiarity of Kenma’s lips, the familiarity of his scent, everything that used to soothe and ease the desperation of his heats… all of it is _gone_. It’s not Kenma’s gentle, orange blossom and apple scent that he _craves_ like a dehydrated man in the desert but it’s that _stupid stranger’s_ scent instead.

And that desire makes him burst into tears.

Pressing his face against Kenma’s chest as he sobs it’s the most conflicting feeling of arousal and despair he’s ever felt in his life.

“Kenma? Chibi-chan?” Kuroo’s voice is muffled in Shouyo’s ears. “Oh _god_ is that coming from him?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says. At the sound of Kenma’s flat, brittle voice, Shouyo’s sobbing grows more erratic.

“Let me help get him inside,” Kuroo says. Shouyo doesn’t hear Kenma’s reply but a moment later Kuroo is hoisting him up. Kuroo’s arm slips around his waist and Shouyo sags a little when Kuroo’s scent is more comforting than arousing.

They get him inside the apartment with little fanfare. Shouyo flops onto their bed, clawing at his clothes. Kenma kisses Shouyo’s wet cheek, whispering a promise that he’ll be right back and Shouyo reaches for him when he shut the door. It hurts.

The stranger’s face haunts him; his scent is ingrained in Shouyo’s nostrils.

He kicks off his pants and reaches between his legs. Shouyo’s thighs are wet and he almost comes when his wrist brushes his throbbing erection. Biting down on the sleeve of his sweater he easily slips two fingers in his hole. He moans.

The bed dips. “You’re so lewd, Shouyo.”

Shouyo practically throws himself at Kenma, rubbing his erection against Kenma’s jeans. “Make me forget him, Kenma, please, mark me – make me _yours_ – please I love _you_.”

Kenma’s face crinkles but he kisses Shouyo, flips him over and presses him into the bed. Gasping, Shouyo lifts up his hips. He’s drooling when Kenma thrusts into him with a moan. Kenma collapses against him. Kisses his neck. Laces their left hands; their rings clink softly.

Shouyo buries his nose in the sheets to breathe in anything but the scent lingering in his nose. Kenma’s hand wraps around his shaft. Shouyo groans.

He’s close. So _so so_ close.

“Shouyo,” Kenma moans and bites the back of Shouyo’s neck, leaving a fresh new mark. Shouyo’s gasp is loud and sharp as he comes.

For a moment, all he can think of is Kenma.

* * *

 

He was insistent that he make dinner to apologise. The smile on Kenma’s face since _the incident_ has seemed so fake that the guilt is overwhelming. Shouyo just wants to see him smile again.

“I’ll even make you apple pie!” Shouyo says. Kenma’s eyebrow quirks. That’s a good sign.

“Can you promise me you won’t burn down the kitchen?” he asks with a twist to his lips.

Shouyo nods enthusiastically. His early induced heat ended yesterday and he’s eager to make it up to Kenma. Besides the scent of that stranger has faded and he can finally think straight. (Even if the lingering desire has been creeping up on him and he sometimes finds himself reaching for someone he doesn’t know.)

This time Kenma’s smile reaches his eyes. Shouyo lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He kisses him quickly and rolls up his sleeve.

“You won’t be disappointed!” Shouyo promises and hurries to the kitchen. He’s never been great at cooking – they usually cook together – but he doesn’t want to lose Kenma.

Cracking his knuckles, he gets to work. It’s mindless work. They don’t have much so he decides on okonomiyaki for dinner. With the first pancake cooking he goes hunting for pie ingredients.

 _There has to be left-over apple pie filling in the cupboard_. Shouyo squats down, digging through the snack cupboard and accidentally unearths an abandoned bag of Bokuto’s black licorice. Shouyo’s head spins; his vision swarms.

He falls backwards and bangs his head on the fridge.

“Shouyo?!” Kenma appears in the archway.

Pulling his hoodie over his nose to mask the smell he points at the overturned bag of licorice. “Please throw that out,” he says, breathlessly.

Kenma follows his finger. A storm cloud rolls over his face but the expression evaporates when Shouyo looks at him again. “Sure.”

Shouyo doesn’t pull his sweater down until Kenma has the licorice bagged up and brought out to the garbage disposal. They haven’t talked about the stranger once and while Shouyo acknowledges that is probably the _worst_ strategy for their relationship, he’s terrified.

The okonomiyaki is a little crisper than usual but thankfully it isn’t burnt. He scrubs his nose and finds the apple pie filling.

Kenma sneaks up behind him after he’s put the timer on for the pie and covers his eyes. “Guess who?”

Shouyo’s heart speeds up. Turning around he slips his arms around Kenma’s neck to kiss his jaw. “My mate.”

Kenma’s gentle smile is back. “I love you,” he whispers as his hands find Shouyo’s waist. Playing with the loose ends of Kenma’s hair, he stretches up to kiss him.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe the two biggest Kenma-fanatics are struggling to find a gift for said person,” Bokuto says, staring down at the two slumped in front of the fountain.

“He has _everything_ he wants!” Kuroo laments, musing his bedhead further. Daishou, Kuroo’s unsympathetic mate, pats his shoulder.

“Just give him Hinata,” Daishou says. “Slap a bow on his head and sing happy birthday.”

Shouyo scowls but he touches the faint indents on the back of his neck. “He already has me.”

Daishou rolls his eyes; Kuroo pinches Daishou’s thigh. Bokuto sighs.

Shouyo jumps to his feet jabbing a finger skywards. “I won’t give up even if we have to search all of Tokyo!” The group groans collectively.

There’s a fluttery feeling in his chest as he thinks of the pleased expression that’ll be on Kenma’s face when he finds the elusive mystery gift. He’s so caught up thinking about Kenma that he doesn’t smell black licorice until it’s too late.

And, just like that, it feels as though all the air was sucked out of the universe. The tantalizing scent is back, weaving through Shouyo’s cells and drawing him towards the source.

He barely hears Kuroo calling his name.

“Wait…” Shouyo gasps, reaching out to grasp the back of the stranger’s formfitting black coat. Looking up, Shouyo meets his cold blue stare and blush flares across his cheeks.

 _No_.

The stranger shrugs him off then covers his nose with the collar of his jacket. Shouyo replicates his gesture. _What am I doing?!_

“It’s you,” the stranger says darkly.

Shouyo can’t help the shiver that zips down his spine. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” It’s getting hard to breathe.

“Kageyama?” Daishou asks as he slithers up behind Shouyo. “Do you two know each other, Hinata?”

Shouyo’s mouth is dry.

“Not really,” Kageyama says, narrowing his eyes at Shouyo.

Daishou must understand Shouyo’s non-vocalized question because he says, “We work together.”

Shouyo clamps his mouth shut because he’s terrified of saying something stupid and desperate. He plunges his free trembling hand deep into the pocket of his hoodie. It feels like he has tunnel vision; all he can see is Kageyama’s stupidly handsome face. He _needs_ Kageyama to bend him –

“Why do you keep showing up?” Shouyo squeaks.

Kageyama scoffs. “ _I_ should be asking _you_ that.” Shouyo’s heart speeds up. He curses this body.

He can still smell Kageyama’s scent through the barrier of his hoodie. Shouyo squeezes his legs together and tries to will away his rising erection. Kageyama’s eyes widen.

His nails cut crescents into his palm and he feels like crying. _Kenma Kenma Kenma_.

It takes every last bit of his strength to turn around and walk away from Kageyama while still maintaining his sanity. His stomach twists. And he has never hated himself more for that part that still exists in him that wants to throw himself at Kageyama.

Mumbling something about the bathroom he runs to the nearest one, panting. After splashing ice cold water on his face, he fumbles for his phone.

“C’mon, pick up,” he mutters. His hands are shaking so bad he can barely hold the phone. It’s the voicemail. He tries again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail –

Shouyo slumps against the sink. There’s a sour taste in his mouth when he pockets his phone and presses his forehead against the rim of the sink to cool down. The tremor in his hands isn’t going away.

He groans. _No… Go away._ The door opens.

“It’s me,” Kageyama says. _Yeah, I know, I could smell you before you walked in_.

“What?” Shouyo grits out as he grips the edge of sink until his knuckles turn white.

“You’re driving me crazy," Kageyama whispers. His voice sounds a little muffled. “I hate it.”

Shouyo’s got a death grip on the sink because Kageyama’s scent is making it impossible to think straight. He has to grind his teeth together to stop himself from begging Kageyama to fuck him and it makes him sick. “I don’t like this either,” he manages. “Go away.”

“I can’t…” Kageyama’s voice cracks. “I tried leaving but your pheromones are driving me insane.”

Soul bonds should have just been a myth; they shouldn’t exist. And for as long as Shouyo can remember that’s what they were. A soul bond shouldn’t be _ruining_ his life right now. Shouldn’t be triggering his heat, _again_.

“Try harder.” Shouyo’s hips shift involuntarily. _Ken_ – he can’t remember what he was thinking; what he is thinking? All that's on his mind is the thought of Kageyama tearing through his pants and fucking him until he can’t remember his name.

His concentration is slipping. Shouyo risks a glance over and the Alpha is in various states of unravel. His face is red and contorted. There is a visible bulge in his jeans.

Kageyama gravitates towards him, wobbly like a newborn calf.

“Please,” Shouyo squeaks out instead of no. Kageyama’s trembling hands grip Shouyo’s hips and he almost comes in his pants from that alone. Shouyo reaches back to push Kageyama away but he clutches the front of his jacket instead.

Kageyama’s pupils are blown wide and his breathing is erratic as he leans in to kiss him. The rational part of Shouyo’s brain disintegrates as he eagerly parts his lips to taste more of Kageyama. His vision goes hazy as the black licorice scent permeates every cell in his body.

Kageyama thrusts his hips forwards rutting against Shouyo until he’s a moaning mess beneath him. _I want him in me I need him in me_. Shouyo rolls his hips back impatiently.

His pants are shucked down and Kageyama sinks two fingers into him with ease. Shouyo gasps.

“God you’re tight,” Kageyama groans as he sucks on Shouyo’s ear. A wave of heat comes over Shouyo, oppressive and overbearing that makes it difficult to breathe. He’s mumbling incoherently and drooling on his arm as Kageyama fucks him open with his fingers.

Kageyama unbuckles his belt, kisses Shouyo’s neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh there just _waiting_ to be marked – _no_.

There’s a moment of clarity when Shouyo’s cellphone rings, loud and clear, piercing through the soul bond induced haze. Reality comes crashing down and with a strength Shouyo didn't know he possessed, shoves Kageyama back.

It shatters the spell cast over them and Kageyama throws himself against the wall, panting and clutches his face. Shouyo doesn’t know how he manages to pull up his pants with his shaky hands but he does. He fumbles for his phone… and bursts into tears the moment he sees who is calling.

“ _Shouyo? What’s wrong?_ ” Shouyo sinks to the floor, sobbing quietly as Kenma’s concern-filled voice dances in his brain. With a tight chest, Shouyo feels like vomiting. “ _Shouyo?_ ” Kenma’s voice rises an octave.

“Kenma,” Shouyo sobs while his mind plays on repeat what happened with Kageyama. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Kenma’s silence is enough to break Shouyo’s heart and he deserves it. He couldn’t resist the soul bond and he’s still thinking of how good Kageyama’s fingers felt. Still thinking about how good Kageyama’s dick would have felt.

“ _It’s okay_ ,” Kenma whispers.

The world is spinning. Snot and tears stream down his face like Niagara Falls. “But it’s not!”

“… _I’ll call Kuroo, okay? Just come home Shouyo_ ,” Kenma says flatly. It makes Shouyo cry harder.

“Okay.” Kenma hangs up. Shouyo lets his hand fall.

Kageyama has moulded himself to the wall. He looks like his world just came crashing down. It may as well have – Shouyo’s world is in flames too.

Shouyo knows nothing about Kageyama other than they’re soul bonds and he smells like black licorice. He doesn’t even know Kageyama’s first name. And he might have just sacrificed everything he loves because he couldn’t resist _one_ Alpha’s pheromones.

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama says, “I don’t know why… Well I _do_ but… I have a _mate_.” He’s absolutely crushed.

Shouyo grimaces. They’re in the same boat then.

Kageyama looks at him like he just swallowed broken glass. “So why do I still want you?” he whispers.

He doesn’t answer. Kageyama already knows the answer anyways.

The door opens and Shouyo’s insides knot at the thought of all the possible expressions that Kuroo could be wearing. “Come on, Chibi-chan,” he says, helping Shouyo up. “You look like a mess.”

“I am,” Shouyo says and forces himself not to look back.

* * *

 

The silence is oppressing but Shouyo doesn’t complain. He makes himself look into Kenma’s devastated golden eyes. _I did that_.

Kenma folds his hands in his lap. “Tell me what happened.”

Shouyo closes his eyes for a moment and quietly relays the event with enough detail that Kenma understood but not enough that would break both of them. When he finishes there are tears welling in Kenma’s eyes. Shouyo would like nothing more than to brush away his tears but he doesn’t think he has the right to.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyo says with a creaky voice.

“I know,” Kenma whispers.

They sit in silence again, trying to find words that just don’t exist.

“I know it’s not your fault,” Kenma says after a long period of silence.

“No, Kenma, that’s not fair – it _is_ still my fault,” Shouyo says. He has no idea how they’re going to move passed this but he’s going to do his best to make it work. He loves Kenma. Even if he is drawn to Kageyama like a moth to a flame, he _refuses_ to let the soul bond control him.

Kenma reaches over and takes Shouyo’s hand in his. They’re cold. “Do you want to be with him?”

“No,” Shouyo says immediately. He’s a little shocked to realize just how much he means it too. His body may crave Kageyama, may never be fully satisfied again unless it _was_ Kageyama but his heart belongs to Kenma. The rumors about inevitably falling in love with your soul bond might just be that. Even if it isn’t, Shouyo has no intention of entertaining it.

It’s always been Kenma. Kenma, who was there when Shouyo’s grandmother died, who never once cared that he was an Omega, who has always loved him even though Shouyo has hurt him by the very virtue of his heat. Heats that Kenma can only placate and never fully satisfy. Has loved him through all the shitty meals, the time he flooded the bathroom and the time broke the laundry machine.

And in turn, Shouyo has always only ever loved Kenma. Kenma who has only let Shouyo (and Kuroo) know everything about him, who has only been comfortable enough around them to laugh until there are tears in his eyes. The Kenma that once accidentally bleached his hair too long because he got distracted playing Mario Kart. And sometimes, he needs his space and Shouyo respects that because that’s what you do when you love someone.

He just wishes he never hurt him.

Kenma squeezes his hand.

“I only want you Kenma. I won’t let this soul bond decide who I love for me,” Shouyo says, releasing Kenma’s hand to instead cup his face. “Even if my heat is unbearable for the rest of my life it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I _chose_ to be with you, Kenma.”

Kenma’s cold fingers caress the backs of Shouyo’s hand. “Thank you,” Kenma says as his eyebrows crinkle and his golden eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Blush stains his cheeks in big splotches but despite it all, he’s smiling.

Shouyo leans in to press their foreheads together. He meant every word. Kenma kisses the fleshiest part of Shouyo’s palm.

“Thank you,” he says again.

The conversation was far from over but Shouyo felt infinitely better just knowing Kenma understood how he felt. They were going to talk as long as they needed to.

* * *

 

They meet Kageyama at a park a few weeks later.

It had been Kenma’s suggestion, and while Shouyo had been doubtful the meeting would accomplish anything, Kenma assured him it was merely to clear the air.

The nights leading up to the meeting, Shouyo was a wreck. He couldn’t shake free from the fear gripping his heart – that’d he’d end up doing something reckless and stupid. But Kenma assured him that it would be okay, that he trusted Shouyo (always has and always will) because even in his darkest moment, Shouyo came back to him.

It didn’t alleviate all of Shouyo’s fears, but it certainly helped.

Shouyo drags his fingers through the cold fountain water to keep himself calm. And while he normally would have some qualms about kneeling in front of a fountain, resting his flushed cheek on the concrete rim, he was too strung-out to care. Kenma draws pictures between Shouyo’s shoulder blades with his finger.  

If they weren’t meeting Kageyama, then, Shouyo supposed, this would actually be a nice date. _Black liquorice._

Kenma’s finger stills on Shouyo’s spin. “Shouyo, he’s here.”

Shouyo takes a shallow breath, hoping that it isn’t enough to warp his senses, and turns around.

A shorter, attractive, brown-haired man is holding onto Kageyama’s elbow. His glare, directed towards Shouyo, is withering. Shouyo resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him.

Once Kageyama is roughly five-feet away, he stops. He looks about as apprehensive as Shouyo feels about this meeting. But with Kenma here, Shouyo remains as calm and cool as the fountain he’d just been dipping his hand into.

“So?”

It was Kageyama who broke the silence.

“I wish we had never met!” Shouyo blurts. Kenma covers his laugh with a cough.

That… wasn’t even remotely close to what he’d practiced saying. He was going to start the conversation with a friendly anecdote before transitioning to the hard truth that he didn’t care about soul bond. He just skipped those steps entirely.

Kageyama blinks – the man at his elbow looks more amused than hostile now – and says, “Well, same.”

Some of the tension ebbs away. “I’m sorry about what happened the other day,” Shouyo says, “I never wanted that to happen and… I don’t care about whatever this soul bond is.”

Kageyama nods. The stiffness in his jaw relaxes. “I don’t either.”

And suddenly, Shouyo feels like he can breathe again. The oppressive scent that practically radiated off Kageyama fades into a more palpable afterthought. There is still an annoying part of Shouyo that yearns for Kageyama’s touch but it’s no longer as overpowering as it once was.

Shouyo had brought up moving to Kenma; it was the easy, fix-it with a small piece of duct tape type of solution. But Kenma, ever rational, pointed out that no matter the distance between them, Shouyo would never be _free_ from the chains of a soul bond.

But sitting here at the park, as the sun slowly fades to sunset, his body is his own.

“Good,” Shouyo says.

He _thinks_ there’s a smile on Kageyama’s face, but he’ll never know, nor does he care to ever find out, so he smiles back.

And that was that. They exchanged a few more pleasantries, with a few chip-ins from Kenma and the man with Kageyama and that was it. They bowed, said a few more polite things and left.

A strange calmness settles over Shouyo as he watches them leave. Kageyama doesn’t look back. And Shouyo doesn’t wish he did.

“Shouyo?” Kenma doesn’t sound hesitant or unsure and when Shouyo meets his eyes, they’re clear and bright. “Are you okay?”

Shouyo searches Kenma’s face for any sign that _he_ isn’t okay. But Kenma looks like Kenma. His heart swells. Shouyo cups Kenma’s face and brings their foreheads together. The laughter of playing children fades away. “I’ve never been better.”

Kenma’s smile is small but it feels like he just handed Shouyo the moon.

* * *

 

With persistent fingers, Kenma works Shouyo open, reducing him to a drooling, moaning mess. Kenma places open-mouthed kisses on Shouyo’s neck.

“You’re so wet, Shouyo,” Kenma murmurs against his neck. He curls his fingers upwards into Shouyo’s prostate and Shouyo gasps.

His breathing grows erratic as Kenma pulls him into a kiss. Shouyo sucks on Kenma’s tongue.

Kenma pulls his fingers out of Shouyo and splays his hand, wet with Shouyo’s slick, along the dip of Shouyo’s hip. Shouyo shivers. His thighs quiver as he hooks his legs around Kenma’s waist, pulling him closer and closer until Kenma’s cock is rutting against his own.

The moan that Shouyo pulls from Kenma with a roll of his hips is like a symphony in his ears.

Saliva dribbles down Shouyo’s chin when Kenma breaks the kiss. Kenma brushes his fingers through Shouyo’s sweaty bangs, pushing them out of his flushed face. And Shouyo does the same, gently caressing Kenma’s cheek, drinking in his hazy golden gaze, and tucking loose hair behind Kenma’s ear.

( _And he looks really good._ )

Kenma reaches for a condom but Shouyo grasps his wrist with a violent shake of his head. “No… please…”

Kenma resists, tugging on Shouyo’s earlobe with his teeth. “You might get pregnant…”

Shouyo grabs Kenma’s cheeks, to look him in the eyes. Kenma’s eyes go wide. Shouyo knows his eyes must be clear, determined and full of adoration because that’s how he feels. He knows, knows what he wants – and secretly he _has_ always known that he’s wanted to have Kenma’s children since the day they met years ago – but he needs to make sure him and Kenma are on the same page.

“I know,” Shouyo says, “are you okay with it?”

Kenma’s pretty gold eyes search Shouyo’s face for any signs of doubt. Kenma sighs through his nose, bows his head against Shouyo’s neck and says, “I’m so weak to you, Shouyo.”

“Do you want to try, Kenma?” Shouyo asks.

It takes a moment but Kenma meets his gaze head-on. “Yes.”

Shouyo tugs Kenma into a kiss and lifts his hips so Kenma can thrust into him. Kenma flips him over and bites down on the back of Shouyo’s neck, leaving the only marks that he can.

A fire burns in Shouyo’s belly as he tilts his head back, seeking a kiss with desperate lips. The words _I love you_ repeat like a mantra in Shouyo’s head as Kenma’s sweet, orange blossom and apple scent fills Shouyo’s nostrils until it’s all he can smell.

And Shouyo wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

 

Their son _looks_ like Shouyo, albeit with black hair. And while it took a few years before Shouyo was able to get pregnant, their son was born healthy and completely perfect.

Haruka slaps his hand, covered in blue paint, down on a sheet of paper. It splatters and gets on everything.

“Mama! Look!” Haruka shouts, slapping his hand down again and making an even bigger mess.

“Ah!” Shouyo shoves the large spoon of rice back into the cooker and gently grabs Haruka’s hand before he can do it again.

Haruka pouts, pointing at the painting with his other hand. “ _Look_. It’s daddy.”

Shouyo follows Haruka’s finger to the painting. Three blue handprints form Kenma’s body and a yellow and black blob comprises Kenma’s head. It’s kind of a monstrosity but…

“It’s beautiful Haruka!” Shouyo says. “But we should clean this paint up before dinner.”

“O-kay!” Haruka jumps up and accepts wet cloth that Shouyo hands to him after he set Haruka’s painting aside. Together, they make quick work of the blue paint splatters on the floor and cupboards.

Shouyo is dabbing paint off Haruka’s chubby cheeks when Kenma walks in.

Kenma’s hands slide around Shouyo’s waist, settling on his lower stomach where the small baby bump is beginning to show. His chin rests on Shouyo’s shoulder and he places a quick kiss on Shouyo’s cheek.

“Daddy!” Haruka reaches for Kenma. Kenma hugs Shouyo for a moment longer before moving to hug their son. Haruka immediately launches into a long-winded babble about his day.

It’s during moments like this, the quiet, happy ones, where Shouyo has never been more grateful he chose Kenma over his so-called fated pair. Shouyo cannot imagine how he was _ever_ possibly meant for anyone other than Kenma and it’s a life he would never entertain.

And it is that night, snuggled up in Kenma’s arms as their son sleeps soundly between them, does Shouyo twist his head up to whisper in Kenma’s ear: “ _You’re_ my soul bond, Kenma.”

Kenma’s eyes flutter open, glowing golden in the moonlight, and says, “And you’re _mine_.”

Their kiss is punctuated with the lingering, sweet scent of orange blossoms and apples.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed playing with fate and throwing it away. No one will ever convince me that Shouyo isn't destined for Kenma - no matter what I've written here. Even _if_ destiny chose someone else for Shouyo, Shouyo will _always_ choose Kenma. 
> 
> ... Sorry I got off topic lol anyways, happy KenHina Day everyone! 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://emeraldgalaxies.tumblr.com/)


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